Deliver Us From Evil
by Soalric
Summary: When the Pound Puppies go off on one of their usual missions to place a pup, they find themselves in the heart of a town which conceals a terrible secret, one which may not let them leave alive.
1. The Village

_"And when these things begin to come to pass, then look up, and lift up your heads; for your redemption draweth nigh."_

Luke 21:28

* * *

October 24, 1713

* * *

The pounding sounded on Constance's door, and the young widow answered to find the village priest staring her down.

"Constance!" he barked. "What is the meaning of your actions?"

The woman was confused, "Father, I…I do not know what you mean…"

The priest barged past Constance to enter the house without another word. Looking back outside, Constance saw a group of ten men, each holding a bundle of rope. A large handcart stood nearby. A feeling of dread rose in the woman's heart, and she rushed back inside.

"Father, is there business I can help you attend to?"

The priest said nothing at first, instead inspecting the meager dwelling from top to bottom, opening the cupboard and peeling back the blankets on the bed. Finally he came to rest in front of the widow.

"Two nights ago, Mrs. Williams saw you going into the woods."

"I-I, uh, yes, I was, collecting berries! And herbs, too, my medicinal cabinet was running out."

"Why did you not visit the apothecary?"

"I was so desperately low, and I was tending to a patient!"

"Another animal…"

"Yes, this poor dog that showed up on my doorstep with an injured leg. I needed some salves urgently, and I thought I could find some, and-"

"Constance," the priest silenced her, "that same night you went into the woods, a pack of wolves attacked and killed five sheep."

"I heard, and it is tragic, but…are you saying that-"

"And the time before," Constance froze when she realized her repeated late night trips into the forest had been seen by others, "rats got into the silo and ruined almost our entire supply of grain. And the time before _that_, a cow trampled and killed Mr. Hutchinson!" He glared darkly at Constance, who slowly turned pale. "Do you have something to confess to me? To God?"

Constance pursed her lips, and her breath came shuddering, "I feel…at home in the forest, it's…it's so beautiful…" another deep breath, "And I…I enjoy the company of the animals. And sometimes…if they're hurt, I make them feel better, you know that!" she nodded desperately, and received a curt nod back, "But that's it! I do nothing else! I swear it!"

A grim look back. "Constance, you know lying before God is a grave offense…"

"I'm not, Father! I swear it!"

"You are hereby arrested for the crime of witchcraft-"

"No!" Constance cried out and, dropping to her knees, hugged the priest's legs. "No, please! I swear, I only hold Christ as my lord, no other!"

"Then when you face God, you should have no trouble."

"NO!" The scream drew the ten men inside, who began to grab the woman and bind her, "Look, watch! 'Our Father, who…who art in heaven…"

As she desperately, futilely tried to prove her innocence by reciting the Lord's Prayer, the priest took one of the men aside.

"Francis, I need you to take all of the animals in the village. Livestock, dogs, anything that isn't human, and expel them into the woods."

"Father?" the man inquired, not questioning the order itself, but just curious as to the intent.

"The heathen clearly uses beasts as a medium to channel Lucifer's will. Any of our animals may be possessed by his dark influence. Killing them would only serve to release the demons inside, so our only logical choice is to keep them away from our people."

And so it was that Sherman's Creek, a small pious town, broke open the pastures and shooed away its cattle, flocks, and pets. As the citizens watched, the animals trudged their way into the woods, confused, but at least alive.

Constance wasn't nearly as lucky.

* * *

Modern Day

* * *

"…and here, Coco, is the Free Kid Database, or FKD. I'll ask you some questions, and this marvelous machine, of my own invention, will show us who your perfect person is!"

"Awesome! Let's get started!"

"Alright, first question: What is your favorite thing to do on a sunny day?"

Lucky watched as Strudel ran the pup through the basic questions. Not fifteen minutes ago, Coco, a lovable chocolate Labrador, had been wandering the streets of the city just outside Shelter 17. Niblet found her rummaging through some old boxes, brought her through the secret tunnel entrance, and introduced her to the world right underneath the shelter: the Pound Puppies, the legendary international organization that could match her with the human she belonged to.

"Hey Lucky," Cookie came up beside him. "How's the new pup?"

"She's doing great, Strudel's just running her through the FKD now," as the two watched, the data began running through the computer, searching for a match. "She'll just be in and out of here, I know it."

"Oh no, you did NOT just say that!"

"What?" Lucky chuckled.

"Every time you say, 'Oh, this will be easy!', things turn into a disaster!"

"Alright, alright, but come on! We haven't had any new pups for a couple of days, things have been kind of slow, it'll be nice to have a mission to shake things up."

"Success!" Strudel interjected. "Sarah Blackmon, age 7. Loves playing hopscotch, taking walks in the forest, and blueberry pies!" The dachshund hit a few keys on the keyboard. "She lives in a small village right outside the edge of town."

Lucky leaned over to see the screen, "Huh, it's kind of far. Are there any other shelters out that way?"

"Negatory, we're the closest one."

"Does that mean I don't get to meet my person?" Coco looked up at Lucky worriedly.

"Of course not, kid, we'll take you ourselves. Cookie, get the gang together," the boxer nodded and ran down the tunnel, "Strudel, will the squirrels be able to manage the place for a few hours?"

"Mr. Nut-Nut?"

The squirrel squeaked back in the affirmative and saluted.

"They've got it, Lucky!"

"Road trip!" Niblet came bounding into the room delightedly, "We're going on a road trip! We're going on a road trip!" he sang.

"Yes, yes we are big guy," Lucky couldn't help smiling at the big dog's excitement, "but we're going to have work to do, too."

"I know, I know…"

"Can we come?" Cupcake, Rebound, and Patches asked in unison as they came into the room, their faces hopeful.

"No!" Strudel answered, "Our way there is on a grocer truck leaving in fifteen minutes, and there's only room for the grown-ups and Coco!" The three puppies' let their disappointment show plainly on their faces.

Lucky quickly sprang to cheer up the trio, "Don't worry guys, we're just going for a little bit, and besides, you can help the squirrels keep this place in line! Think you're up for the task?" He cocked his eyebrow as he presented his challenge to the puppies.

"Yeah! Okay! Sure!" they all answered back, and ran down another tunnel to search for something to aid with.

"Alright, is everyone ready?" Lucky looked around to ensure all players were present: Cookie came back with Squirt the Chihuahua in tow, Strudel was prepared, and Niblet was distracted by shiny lights on the computer console – which meant he was ready to go. And finally, Coco, simply overflowing with anticipation.

"Okay then, let's go dogs, go!"

* * *

The ride was indeed a long one, and as the grocer's truck drove further and further out to the countryside, the paved roads deteriorated in quality. Finally, the hum on rubber on asphalt gave way to the crackle of said rubber on dirt. Unlike the fruit so carefully packed around them, the dogs had little to buffer them from the jolts of potholes and bumps in the road.

"Are we OW!" Squirt exclaimed as a particularly powerful lurch sent him a few inches into the air, then back onto the metal flooring. "Are we almost there?"

"It can't be OW!" Squirt was also floored by a malicious pothole, and scrambled back to her feet panting, "It can't be…that much farther…"

As the words left his mouth, the brakes on the truck squealed, and the trip of much discomfort came to an end. They heard the door of the cab open, crunching footsteps around the side of the vehicle, and then click of the door's latch opening.

"What the - get out of here, you mongrels!" The grocer exclaimed in shock as the six dogs bolted from their hiding places among the fruit boxes. "Go on, shoo!" He waved his hands until they disappeared behind the corner of the shack that was the local market.

"That…that guy wasn't very nice!" Coco felt the need to point out.

"Yeah, what a meaniehead!" Niblet affirmed the accusation.

"Don't worry, we just startled him, that's all," Lucky reassured them, "and besides, he did get us here! Can you imagine walking all that way?" Silence, as no one really wanted to imagine such a trek. "Now, Coco, the main town is just up ahead," and indeed, the grocery shack was detached from the rest of the village, which still lay up the road, surrounded by forest. "Once we get there, we find Sarah, she finds you, she goes 'Aw' and loves you, and the rest will click from there!"

"I can't wait!" the puppy positively beamed with happiness.

So the six dogs began walking along the side of the road into the town. As the buildings came into sight through the trees, no one paid special attention to the sign posted for the rare traveler's convenience:

WELCOME TO

SHERMAN'S CREEK


	2. Sarah Blackmon

_"He uncovers deep things out of darkness,_

_"And brings the shadow of death to light."_

Job 12:22

* * *

The road twisted around a hairpin curve, then another. The forest clung to the sides, leaving no more than twenty feet between the shoulder of the road and the treeline. The six dogs kept advancing down the way, not encountering any more humans as the path weaved its way through the trees.

"I don't like this, guys…" Niblet stared worriedly at the forest, which was dark and wildly overgrown. He dropped his voice to a whisper, "I can't hear anything in there, can you?" And it was true; even with their sense of hearing more finely tuned than a human's, no one in the group could detect a sound coming from the trees. Not a bird sang, not a squirrel chattered. "It's so spooky, like, at any moment, something will pop out and-"

"BOO!" Squirt blurted out. The chihuahua rolled over laughing as Niblet jumped into the air screaming.

"AAAAAH!" He fell back to the ground and darted behind Cookie, cowering to the ground with his paws over his head. "Please scary monster creature, don't eat me!"

"Oh, get up you big 'fraidy cat!" Cookie chastised him, "It was just Squirt messing around!"

"Hey guys, knock it off, we're on a mission!" Lucky called back to the two in an annoyed tone. Squirt got back on his feet, still chuckling, and wiped a tear from his eye.

"I…I'm sorry…but…it was too perfect…."

As the chihuahua finished having his laugh, much to the displeasure of the offended Niblet, the team finally rounded the last hairpin curve. Before them stood the bulk of Sherman's Creek, the sleepy little village nestled away from the rest of society, the town where Sarah Blackmon, Coco's perfect person, lived.

But there was another peculiar feature of the town that caused all six dogs to stop and stare.

"Wow, look at that!" Cocoa exclaimed. But it was not necessary, as all attention was already directed at the item in question.

Sherman's Creek had not grown much over the years, and most of the larger hallmarks of Western civilization had not taken root. There were no lofty banks, no looming factories, no towering offices. All of the houses were, at most, two stories, and even those were hard to pick out. It seemed that most of the industry, as well, took place on the ground level. But right in the center of the town, there was one edifice that soared above the rest.

A very large stone church.

A very solid stone structure within a village of wood and brick, the church stood high, at least forty feet up. From the angle the Pound Puppies could see, the building had a roof which sloped steeply to either side, and in the middle front, a bell tower emerged and reached towards the heavens. The very top of the tower had an opening where the bells were visible, and the frontwards side which faced the dogs bore impressive stained glass windows, which even from a distance sparkled with color and vibrancy. The church had clearly been built hundreds of years ago, but it was only evident because of the style. In terms of age and wear and tear, the building might have just been completed a day ago. There were no creeping vines, no fade on the stone walls, no cracks which threatened the structure's integrity. It was clear that a great amount of labor had gone into the care of this church.

"Wow…" whispered Lucky.

"It's so pretty…" muttered Niblet.

"An impressive example of a mix between colonial and Gothic architecture…" marveled Strudel.

"And I get to see it every day?!" Coco was getting more and more excited.

"That's right, sweetie, we're going to take care of you in a snap!" Cookie looked down at the Labrador puppy, and smiled as she saw the delighted expectation that she had seen on so many other puppies' faces.

"Well, we're not going to find Sarah by just standing here!" Lucky began walking down the dirt road again, "Let's go find her!"

"According to the FKD," Strudel picked up her pace to take the lead, "she lives at 110 East Winston Street, but since today is Saturday, she might be anywhere in the village!"

"I don't think that will be a problem," Cookie countered, "The whole place is the size of a single city block."

"I know, it is quite odd indeed…" the dachshund wondered to herself as they all started passing by the buildings. People finally began to show up, drifting back and forth between the small shops and homes, all intermingled with each other. No motor vehicles appeared, allowing dogs and humans alike to wander the dirt street unhindered. When there were no humans nearby, Strudel took the chance to offer commentary: "They seem to have rejected the concept of industrialization altogether, and have instead relied on light manufacturing to craft the supplies necessary for day-to-day life! Very peculiar…"

"Um…" Coco tilted her head as the unfamiliar words swirled around her, "Was that all stuff I have to remember?"

Niblet bent down to whisper, "Don't worry kid, I don't remember ANYTHING when she talks like that."

The team passed by an empty shack, then a newspaper, then a blacksmith, the latter two out in the open air as their stores had no fronts sealing away their craft. All the while, more and more people passed by, until finally, as an intersection approached, Strudel happened a glance down the other way.

"It's her! Sarah! Quick, conceal yourselves!" All six dogs dived underneath a wagon resting against the post office, and peered out at a small girl with pale skin, curly brown hair, and hazelnut eyes. She was dressed in a forest green dress with a light white spotted pattern, and read a navy blue book in one hand as she slowly wandered through the dirt road.

"She's perfect!" Coco exclaimed. And of course she was; the Free Kid Database never made an error in judgment.

"Yes she is, kid, for you," Lucky smiled. "Now go out there and meet her! And remember: once a Pound Puppy, always a Pound Puppy."

With the famous parting words said, Coco dashed out into the street and stopped in front of Sarah. She barked cheerfully, breaking the girl's concentration.

"See, I told you Cookie!" Lucky turned around to speak to the boxer, "Easy case!" He turned back to watch the happy show unfold.

"Oh, uh….hi, puppy!" Sarah Blackmon was surprised by the dog's sudden interest in her. And as she looked into the puppy's eyes, she felt…something. Something warm and comforting in her heart…but then she turned back to her book.

Coco was confused, and looked back at the cart with a quizzical look. The five Pound Puppies glanced between her and the girl, also puzzled. Lucky motioned with his snout to try it again. And so, Coco looked back up at Sarah and barked again, and the girl's eyes left the book again. This time, Coco stood up on her hind paws and panted happily, and made her eyes as big and soulful as possible.

This time, Sarah's heart melted all the way. "Aw, you're such a sweet thing!" and bent down to scratch her behind the ear. The five adult dogs all breathed a sigh of relief. "Yeah, you're nice and-" but her voice stopped abruptly.

She stared down the street with an expression of both embarrassment and fear, as if she had been caught stealing in public. All six dogs were again confused as to why the affection had ceased, but following her gaze, they discovered quickly: every person in the street was staring, with an expression of utmost disapproval etched into their features. Not a sound was heard as every man and woman froze to glare at Sarah and the puppy she was playing with.

"Puppy…" Sarah's voice held a slight tremor now, "Puppy, go on. Go on!" She gently shooed Coco away, then stood up and briskly walked away, clutching her book to her chest. The street came alive again as the citizens went back to their business, leaving the tiny Labrador in the street, bewildered and crushed.

"I…I don't understand," she mumbled as she came back under the cart. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No! No, you didn't do anything wrong!" Lucky hurried to comfort the pup's hurt feelings. "It was everyone else, they didn't like it when she tried to-" and at that moment, something clicked in his brain. He looked around: the blacksmith shop, pitchforks and chains and nails strewn everywhere for customers to look over. But something was missing that you would expect in a small country village: horseshoes and bits.

His mind flashed to the grocer, and his shipment of fruits and vegetables. But no meats, no dairy, nothing of any kind of animal origins.

And now, looking up, he took a good look at the cart they were hiding under: no place for a horse to pull it. It was designed to be hauled by hand power.

And everything fell into place.

"Oh boy," he whispered, "this is going to be a lot harder than I thought…" And Cookie, beneath her shock over the recent complication, felt vindicated.


	3. The First Night in Sherman's Creek

_"His mouth is full of cursing and deceit and oppression;  
Under his tongue is trouble and iniquity._

_"He sits in the lurking places of the villages;  
In the secret places he murders the innocent;  
His eyes are secretly fixed on the helpless.  
He lies in wait secretly, as a lion in his den;  
He lies in wait to catch the poor;  
He catches the poor when he draws him into his net."_

Psalm 10:7-9

* * *

"…and thus, on the three hundredth anniversary of this important event in our church's history, we must remind ourselves of the importance of piety in our lives."

Pastor Jordan preached the homily to a crowd of over two hundred people, the entire population of Sherman's Creek. Saturday evening worship service was usually short, little more than a time to reflect on the week which had just passed; Sunday's was the important service to attend. However, given the special context of the day, the priest had decided to dedicate his homily to the story of Constance, the witch who had used animals to practice darkness within the very borders of the town, was hung from the gallows for her crime against the Lord, and had reminded God's children of the danger of associating with wild beasts. Unknown to Jordan, an additional six dogs were also listening in just outside the doors of the church.

"I implore you, brothers and sisters, to recall the Scripture. Did the devils not choose to enter the bodies of pigs when Jesus cast them out? Did the angel not need to be sent to protect Daniel from the lions? Were not the frogs and insects utilized as plagues against the Egyptians? Did not Satan himself take the form of a beast, a snake, to tempt Eve?"

He searched the heads of the congregation, some bowed in thought or boredom, some looking up with interest or a glazed-over look, for any kind of rebuttal. He received none, only a few "Amen"s from the more devout members in the building.

"Of course, throughout the years, our beliefs have not been as taken as seriously by society as they should be. But that is all the more reason to stay pure at heart! That is why we have shunned the unfaithful around us, that is why we install the mannequins in the woods that keep the beasts of the forest away from our sanctuary! It is up to each of us…" he cast a look at Sarah Blackmon, who blushed in embarrassment and sank into her seat, "All of us…to shun evil, and follow the Lord."

As he went silent, the crowd seemed to come to life, as people realized the lecture had concluded and now looked forward to the next part of service. At this time, Pastor Paul, an older man who had been sitting on a plain wood chair by the altar and served as a second head of the church, stood up with a binder in hand. "We will now read the petitions given to us by the community." Opening the binder, he began to read out: "For Mr. Burgdorf, that he may find the inner strength to finally overcome his love for drink, we pray to the Lord…"

"Lord hear our prayer," muttered back the crowd. The process continued and the words drifted out the door as the dogs decided to turn to themselves to discuss what they had just learned.

"Does…" Coco spoke up sadly, "Does this mean I don't get to be with Sarah?"

"Hey, what did I tell you Coco?" Lucky spoke to her as reassuringly as possible, "We'll get you where you need to go!"

"Are you insane?!" Squirt piped up, "How are we going to get her placed?"

"We're the Pound Puppies! That's what we do, isn't it? And we never let anything stop us from doing our jobs."

"Okay, here's the deal: a gate surrounding a community, we can get past that easily. Crazy parents, we've dealt with those before. But an entire village of people convinced that anything not human is evil? I'm sorry, but I don't see how we're going to pull this off!" Coco's eyes looked down in despair.

"Alright, I admit the circumstances are a little…challenging, for this mission, but we still can't give up!" he paused a moment to think to himself, then suddenly looked to the treetops at the far edge of the village. The sun slowly sank into the leaves, and the sky turned pink with dusk. A chilly twilight breeze breathed over the team. "It's getting late, our first order of business is to find someplace to sleep." He stood up, "The truck already went back to town, so we're spending tonight here. Tomorrow, we'll come up with a plan."

After a quick discussion, and after a quick scavenge around some garbage cans for dinner, the team decided to settle down in the abandoned shack next to the village newspaper. Each dog found his or her place to sleep; Coco snuggled up with Cookie on the torn-up sofa. The spot, besides being one of the only cushioned spots available in the house, had a direct view out of one of the front windows. All five of the grown-up dogs had fallen asleep, but the puppy's disappointment kept her from dozing off. Instead, she stared out the window.

As the service broke, people passed by the shack on their way home. Coco whimpered gently as she saw Sarah walk by holding her mother's hand. As she watched, she saw Jordan stride by, dressed in all black, walking quickly and with purpose, his head held high. His eyes did not break from their straight-forward position, creating the atmosphere of a man who was extremely busy and pressured. A few more villagers went by. Then came Paul, more stooped than his younger counterpart. His gait was slower, almost a shuffle really. As he walked, though, he read a small book in his hand. The cover was frayed and curled from use, and his eyes rarely lifted from the pages to see the world around him. He grinned as he hit a particularly humorous line, but stepped out of view before Coco could see any more.

The light slowly died outside, and bit by bit, Coco joined the Pound Puppies in slumber.

But slumber was a terrible place that night for Lucky.

* * *

_A boy crying and a cat's meow._

_A covered wagon, traveling blissfully down the dirt road._

_"Constance Smith, may God have mercy on your soul…"_

_The crack of a rope going taut and the roar of a crowd._

_Two men stuffing what looked like a scarecrow. _

_The wagon suddenly met by three men, all armed with muskets._

_The two men from before, standing the same scarecrow in the woods, smiling triumphantly at a job well done._

_"…need it! Our wagon, we can't go without our mare and stud! We're just passing through, we swear!"_

_The snap of leather reins being cut, and the horses being driven away._

_Dozens of stuffed mannequins, all around the village, constantly shifted to keep the forces of darkness at bay. _

_"…about your soul, boy?!"_

_A well covered in snow, cloaked by the darkness of night._

_And over it all, the moon silently stared down._

* * *

"I got it!"

Niblet's sudden outburst jolted everyone awake almost instantly. Lucky snapped out of his fragmented nightmare, trying to sort everything back into reality and fantasy.

"Guys, guys, I got it! I got a great idea! So, those people out there think we're evil, right?"

"Right…" Strudel replied, one eyebrow cockeyed in confusion.

"Well, what if we show them that we're not?!"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we go around town, and we show people that we're nice, and we help them, and love them, and prove that we're not scary! Then they'll like animals again, and Coco can be with Sarah, and it's a happy ending!" Niblet smiled at having been so genius as to think up such a clever and ingenious plan.

And clever and ingenious it was. The other four Pound Puppies looked at each other with glances which silently said, "This could work…"

"Niblet, you never cease to amaze me." Lucky, now over his unpleasant nighttime experience, congratulated the sheepdog, who was beaming with pride. "Alright, tomorrow-"

"Lucky," Cookie directed his attention to the window, which showed the day breaking outside.

"Okay, _today_, I want all of you doing two things. First of all, keep your eyes and ears open around humans. The more we know about this place, the better off we'll be. And second of all, act as nicely as possible. This is our only chance at getting Sarah to adopt Coco, so put your heart into it! Little Jimmy falls down a well, you don't go get someone, you go in after him! Put Boy Scouts to shame, you hear me?" A collective nod answered him. "We start after church, then. C'mon, let's find some grub while we're waiting."


	4. Missions of Goodwill

_"Yet now, brethren, I know that you did it in ignorance, as did also your rulers…Repent therefore and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out, so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord,"_

Acts 3:17, 19

* * *

Sabbath service was presided over by Pastor Paul, who decided to dedicate his homily to the importance of aiding the less fortunate. As he spoke, Jordan sat in the chair by the altar, his eyes closed, and solemnly nodded at each important point. The rest of the congregation either listened attentively or not-so-patiently waited through the lecture. After Paul finished, there were the petitions, the sharing of bread and wine (or, for the children, grape juice), and then the assembly broke to enjoy the rest of the Sabbath.

Unbeknownst to them, they were walking into a trap, albeit a very pleasant and enjoyable one.

* * *

"Dammit, where's my hammer?!"

Mr. Norman scanned the tables strewn around his workshop for the missing tool. Blacksmithing instruments of every kind (except hammers) littered not only the workbenches, but the walls and floor as well. The tools rattled and clanged as he shoved them back and forth, his hands and eyes darting around for the absent hammer.

Norman had been hoping to get some smelting done to have extra wares to sell tomorrow. While the Sabbath was supposed to be a time for resting, and he was sure to incur the displeasure of the more faithful members of the village, especially Pastor Jordan, he felt he was justified in making sure his inventory was well-stocked. After all, _technically_ he wasn't conducting business.

He wouldn't be doing anything, though, until he found his hammer!

"Stupid thing, never around when I need it!" He cursed the tool a thousand demises, and finally slumped onto his stool, defeated.

Suddenly, Norman heard a clatter in the far corner of his workshop, and the sound of small feet running across the ground.

"What the..."

He tried to peer through the piles of clutter, to no avail. All he sensed was the sound of scampering feet, and the occasional clash of the metal tools as they were disturbed by the mysterious visitor.

"Who's there?!" he demanded.

Suddenly, in answer, a short, yet long brown dog popped out from the mess, sending Norman reeling back in shock. He was about to curse loudly at it for having scared him so badly when he noticed the hammer that the dog held in its mouth. His hammer!

He stared at the dog, which looked back at him with cheerful, expecting eyes. Slowly, Norman crouched down and reached out with one hand. He leaned back at the same time, as if he was reaching into a dangerous contraption which might snap at any time. His eyes never broke from the dog's, as if looking for some dark ulterior motive. None was found.

Finally, his fingers grasped the handle of the hammer, and the dog willingly relinquished it. Norman straightened up again, and held the tool between his two hands.

"Uh…" Norman was at a loss for words, "well, thank you." He glanced from the dog to his tool, and back again. He gave a weak smile. "Now, uh, go on. Git." He gently shooed away Strudel, but with a decidedly non-hostile air.

* * *

Mrs. Blackmon strode down the dirt road, a basket of apples balanced on her shoulder. She was certain the fruits would be perfect for a pie, maybe two, and the leftovers would make excellent snacks! As her mind swam with images of perfectly baked pastries, she failed to notice the two children, playing keep-away with a ball, darting in front of her path.

"Ah!" she yelped as they brushed right in front of her. Her second hand flew up to try to stabilize the toppling basket, to no avail. Apples spilled across the ground. "Oh, no…"

The kids, a boy and girl, kept running, not noticing the mess left in their wake. Grumbling crossly to herself, Mrs. Blackmon got on her hands and knees to try to gather the fruit back up.

"…not watching where they're going, and they don't even stop to help a lady clean up the mess THEY made, I ought to have a word with their parents, give them a…"

She stopped as an apple unexpectedly rolled and bounced against her hand.

"Oh, thank you," she began to thank her unexpected helper, "I-"

But she was surprised to see it was not a human, but a small dog with pointed ears that had come to her aid. It ran back and forth and, as it encountered an apple, pushed the fruit with its head to roll it towards the woman.

Mrs. Blackmon watched, slightly awed, completely frozen, as the dog rolled three more apples her way. Finally, she broke her trance and began picking up the fruit again, keeping one eye on the small dog. She spotted a small group of people out of the corner of her eye, and saw that they had stopped to stare at this bizarre display. Quite firmly, she ignored them.

After no more than a minute, the basket was again filled with apples. Mrs. Blackmon heaved the basket back up, then paused to look down at the small dog again. Squirt looked back up, and did his best to appear as friendly and non-threatening as possible; the last part was easy for a Chihuahua.

Mrs. Blackmon couldn't think of how to respond, having never been in this kind of situation before. Finally, she uttered a brief "Good day," and flashing a brief smile, she walked briskly away. The small crowd stood in front of her, and Mrs. Blackmon very curtly proceeded though them. They, just like her, were puzzled about what they had just witnessed.

* * *

"Come on, one more!"

Pastor Jordan bellowed at the men as they ran laps around an obstacle course of his own construction. He was head of the local neighborhood watch, a position he had assumed due to his proven leadership skills as a church figure, and he took his role very seriously. At the moment, he was conducting drills with the volunteer members of what he called, very simply, "the Guard." There was no need for the costs and hassles of a modern police department, Jordan argued, when the Guard provided enough law enforcement to maintain tranquility. All they ever had to face in the village was the occasional prankster or petty theft, anyways.

Jordan jogged back and forth along the last leg of the course, offering words of encouragement to each trainee as they passed. "Doing great, go ahead and stop at the finish line!..." he jogged back to run beside the next guy, "Great run, Russell, proud of you!..." he jogged back again, "Good improvement Harry, let's keep cutting the time down!..." and so on until the seven members of the Guard stood, panting, at the finish line.

"Good job today, everyone!" Jordan announced triumphantly, "Let's conclude with a prayer for strength."

"But Pastor," Russell was sweating heavily, "Can't we…can't we get a…a drink first? I'm….we….we're parched…."

Jordan seemed slightly annoyed at being interrupted, but he looked at the men, all of them hunched over from fatigue. He heaved a sigh.

"Alright, I'll go get a bucket from the well," and he proceeded around the corner of the Guard's headquarters to get the water pail.

It was not, however, in its usual place.

Perplexed, Jordan looked back and forth along the wall. He peered around the far corner. But the bucket was nowhere to be found.

"What on earth?..." he wondered aloud, and he wandered a few steps towards the Guard. "Hey, did one of you take-"

"Pastor, come look!"

The call made Jordan hurry back to the group of men, who were staring in amazement at a large grey shaggy dog making its way towards them. In its teeth was clenched the handle of a bucket – his bucket, Jordan realized – which was filled with water from the well.

What they didn't see were the ten minutes Niblet had spent trying to learn how to operate the well without hands, by no means a small task. All the men saw was the sheepdog bringing the pail of water, sweet cool crystal water, so refreshing after all that running…

"NO!" screamed Jordan. "Get out of here!"

He ran towards the dog, waving his arms in a successful attempt to frighten it. The dog dropped the bucket and sprinted away.

"Cursed beast!" the pastor spat after the retreating canine. He glowered at the bucket, which had landed on its base, still halfway full with the water.

In a fit of anger, Jordan kicked over the bucket, spilling the liquid across the grass. The spark of expected refreshment disappeared from the men's eyes.

"I won't have any of _those things_ wandering around under my watch!" Jordan said aloud to no one in particular. He turned to the members of the Guard. "You keep your eyes open and your hearts righteous; it seems temptation has been sneaking around lately." Then, he huffily grabbed the handle of the pail to get water from his own labor.

* * *

Pastor Paul was walking home from his visit with Mrs. Parkinson. The poor old woman had been depressed ever since her husband's death last year, and she had sought consolation from the senior head of the church. For some reason, she didn't view Pastor Jordan as the comforting type.

After an hour and a half, Mrs. Parkinson felt better about her situation, and had accepted an invitation to a support group hosted by Paul every Tuesday night. A thank-you and a prayer later, she was cheerfully waving good-bye to Paul from her porch.

With that, the pastor was free to enjoy the rest of the Sabbath. He reached into his pocket and felt for a small leather-bound book. Finding it, he rifled through the pages until he found his last stopping place, then delved back into the exciting narrative as he walked along. The narrative proved so exciting, in fact, that he failed to notice two things. First of all, he didn't see the dog with the cream-and-purple fur and small floppy ears that darted underneath a cart as he approached. Second, he didn't notice the large stone, which had been carried into town by a few ambitious children and then abandoned on their parents' orders, albeit right in the middle of the road.

The next events happened in quick succession: One of Paul's shuffling steps, instead of scraping smoothly over the dirt, collided with the aforementioned rock. With a yell of surprise, the pastor stumbled forward and threw his hands in front of him to catch his balance. With that motion, he accidentally tossed his book into the air, which began to descend dangerously close to a mud puddle. At the last second, though, what seemed like a blur whisked across the road and leapt into the air, rescuing the book from a certain demise.

Paul stabilized himself, and glanced frantically around for his book. For a brief second, he feared his precious story was lost, and anxiously searched the mud puddle for the soiled remains. Then he caught sight of the dog trotting towards him, book in mouth.

His mouth hung slightly open as the animal sauntered up to him and stood staring up, expectantly. Paul reached down and gently attempted to get a hold on his book, at which the dog immediately released it. He tucked the book into his arm and bent down closer to examine the peculiar dog. His mind raced as he contemplated the church's doctrine…and at the same time pondered the events that had just unfolded, and what they might mean...

Paul smiled and gently patted Lucky on the head. "Good boy," the pastor said, "and God bless." Then he shuffled away, deciding wisely to save his book for when he was home.

* * *

Sarah Blackmon and her friends were gradually tiring of jump-rope. Today just seemed to be dragging on; first of all, there had been church, never an especially exciting time. Then, Dave and Jennie Holmstead had run off on their own to play with their new leather ball. They usually were the most enthusiastic participants in any game, and their absence had subtracted a great amount of energy from the group. Then, four others had come across a large rock and insisted on making some kind of game with it. When the rest of the group disagreed, the four carried the stone into the village to find something to do with it. Now, only three remained in the distant playing field, including Sarah herself, and they were now quickly running out of things to do.

"This is boring!" hollered a boy with messy black hair, who was operating one end of the jump rope. Sarah held the other end, and a red-haired girl was skipping lightly in the center. "When is it my turn?"

"You just…had a turn…Bernie!" the red-haired girl called to the boy in between jumps, "You can…go again…after…Sarah!"

"Nah, it's alright Lily, he can go after you're done," Sarah dully responded. She seemed preoccupied.

"Sarah, what's wrong with you?" Lily had jumped out of the rope, and was speaking to Sarah with a childish mixture of reproach and concern, "You've been acting funny since yesterday!"

"You know what happened, everyone does!" Sarah responded angrily, and her cheeks flustered with embarrassment.

"I don't see what the big deal is, you were just looking at it," muttered Lily. Bernie nodded in agreement.

"I know, only it wasn't just that," Bernie's and Lily's eyes widened, and they leaned closer to hear, "I…I really felt…I felt _something_ when I looked at that puppy. Like…I don't know, I felt…it felt _good._ I had this warm fuzzy feeling, like nothing could bother me. And…I think I really _loved _it."

Had this confession been made to an adult in the village, Sarah would have received at least a stern reproach, if not a thirty-minute lecture on the danger of being attracted to such dangerous things, and wasn't she concerned for her immortal soul, and let's go down to the church now to pray. Luckily, she was in the company of her friends, all children, still in the stage of questioning everything and everyone.

"Wow…" whispered Lily, "I wish I could see a puppy like that!"

"Yeah, she was really cute," Sarah's eyes sparkled as she stared into the distance, "She was all brown, with really soft fur…"

"Big brown eyes?" Bernie asked.

"Yeah, real big."

"Little skinny tail? Floppy ears?"

"Yeah, yeah…" suddenly Sarah snapped out of her stupor. "How'd you know that?" she demanded.

Bernie pointed to the side, and there was the little brown puppy, looking up hopefully at Sarah. She was more cautious than yesterday, but her eyes still glimmered with love…

"OH MY GOD!" screamed Lily, and she ran and scooped up the puppy in her arms, startling the little Labrador. "She's even sweeter than you said!" Lily turned the dog around in her arms so that it looked up at her like a baby and smiled down at it. The puppy, after recovering from her surprise, smiled back up and panted happily, wagging her tail.

"Yeah, yeah, I guess it's kind of cute," Bernie said, trying to maintain a shell of toughness, although his face plainly gave away that his heart was melting.

Sarah came over and gently rubbed the top of the dog's head, and received a few kisses on her hand in thanks. She giggled happily.

"See, what was I saying?" said Lily, "How can something so cute and friendly be evil? C'mon." she put the puppy back on the ground gently, "Let's play tag! TAG!" and she suddenly touched a finger to the top of the dog's head, and raced away.

Sarah was finally happy to have a chance to be around the strange brown puppy without the rest of the village silently condemning her. After fifteen minutes of chasing and being chased around, everyone came together again, laughing. Sarah picked up the dog and held it out in front of her, looking at it.

"We need to give you a name," she declared decidedly. "Let's see…" she scanned the dog for some kind of identifying feature. "Well, you're brown, like my favorite food, chocolate!"

"Chocolate's a dumb name!" Bernie insisted.

"I wasn't going to call her Chocolate!" Sarah barked back, "It's too long for a name! But something like it…" then a look of joyous realization came to her face. "I got it! Coco!"

As the name was universally accepted by everyone in the group (especially Coco), and they resumed their play, they were unaware that two onlookers were watching.

The first was Cookie, placed in charge of keeping Coco safe during the day, and persuaded by the determined pup to seek out Sarah one more time. Now, she smiled to herself, and thought about how there might be a chance for this mission to work out after all.

The other was Pastor Paul, whose sitting room window overlooked the outer fields of the village boundaries. He had just walked in the door, still pondering the strange dog that had saved his book. Normally, Paul never paid much attention to the kids as they played, they never got into trouble. But now, as he glanced through the glass, he spotted the little blur of brown running around too.

The pastor walked up to the window and stared at Sarah, Bernie, and Lily playing with the small brown puppy. He saw their faces, happy and smiling…

It was another event to add onto an already unusual day, but Paul decided, for the moment, not to intervene in the merrymaking.


	5. Outcasts

_"The King will reply, 'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me."_

_Matthew 25:40_

* * *

Sunday drew to a close, and as the sun set over the treetops, the Pound Puppies retreated back to the shack they had slept in the night before.

"Oh boy, that was great!" rejoiced Coco, "I finally got to meet Sarah! And she likes me, she really likes me!"

"You should have seen them," Cookie smiled, "They were so precious together!" Suddenly, she grew serious, and she shook her head as her mind flitted to the more pressing matter. "Anyways, how did the plan go for you guys?"

"Ah, I dunno," Squirt answered, "None of us really can; we don't know what's going through these people's heads!"

"We know how they reacted to us," Lucky countered, "and overall, I think we did alright. I mean, I'm sure we each had a few run-ins with some more unpleasant people," Lucky shivered as he remembered how one woman, upon the mere sight of him standing nearby, had screamed and nearly hit him with a swipe of her broom, "but we also reached out to a lot of people who might be willing to help us persuade others."

Niblet interrupted, "Now what I don't get is, why did some people like us, and some didn't, if they all think we're scary?"

"It's very simple, Niblet," Strudel volunteered to answer, "For years, they have been cooperating with this guideline set forth by the town's dominant religious institution, and have received reinforcement from a group mentality. However, most have probably not truly incorporated it as a fundamental block of their existence, and are therefore more likely to be willing to disregard this guideline, while those who would move to gain from adherence to the guideline, or have grown extremely attached to the institution that has issued it, would seek to reinforce it strongly, as it is considered paramount to their lives."

A stunned silence followed her answer, and she received only puzzled stares from the rest of the group. She sighed irritably and reworded her response:

"Some people out there are zealots, but most aren't! That's why they were more willing to be approached by us."

Now she received nods of understanding, and a quiet "Ohhhhhh..." from Niblet.

"Do you think it worked, though?" Coco was concerned again, "Will I get to be with Sarah?"

"We'll get you with Sarah, kid," Lucky smiled reassuringly, "even if it takes us ten more days here."

"DON'T!" Cookie blurted out, "DON'T SAY THAT!"

"I'm kind of worried myself," Squirt confessed, "We were supposed to be back last night. I hope McLeish hasn't noticed…"

* * *

"Here he comes!" blurted out Cupcake. She stared through the periscope to the surface, watching as Olaf, the caretaker of Shelter 17, came by the kennels with the bags of kibble. Rebound stood alone on the grass, smiling her best "Nothing top secret is going on!" smile.

"And finally, for you guys-hey, wait a minute!" He stopped, surprised by the amount of food left over from last night. He had poured enough for five grown dogs and three puppies, but for some reason, most of the kibble was still there. It had been scattered around, almost as if trying to be hidden beneath toys and other objects in the kennel, but definitively not eaten. Now that he thought about the past day, Olaf didn't remember seeing the dogs which normally lived in this kennel…

Olaf put down the bag. "Hey, uh…I'll be right back, puppy," and walked towards McLeish's office with a puzzled look on his face.

"Shoot!" Rebound muttered under her breath, and she opened the secret hatch under the food bowl and jumped down into the headquarters below. "He noticed, guys!"

"Man, Patches!" Cupcake yelled crossly at the Dalmatian puppy, "Why couldn't you eat more of it?!"

"Errrrrrrughhhhhhhhh…" Patched groaned, clutching his stomach, "I tried the best I could…..uhhhhhhhh…"

Meanwhile, in the shelter's office, Olaf tentatively approached his boss's desk, where Leonard McLeish was clearly gripped by something occurring on his computer screen. He leaned close, his mouse furiously clicking.

"Um, Mr. McLeish?" No response. "Mr. McLeish, did the dogs out of the last kennel get adopted today during my lunch or something?"

"Come on…" McLeish still did not address Olaf.

"Mr. McLeish, this is important, I think some dogs-"

"Darn it!" McLeish suddenly tightened his hands into fists, "That stupid orc came out of nowhere!"

"Sir?"

Now McLeish took notice of Olaf for the first time. "Olaf, what's the trouble now?" His eyelids half-closed with apathy and boredom.

"Mr. McLeish, I think some dogs might be missing in the last kennel. That is, unless they were adopted today, and I didn't see?"

"Yes, yes, I suppose, and anyways, less to worry about. Now if you're done interrupting me, I have a world record to beat!"

"Excuse me, sir?" Olaf was growing more confused by the second.

"Yes, I'm going to beat the world record for time spent playing a single session of a videogame! So I'm playing my favorite, Realm of Witchcraft, for 136 hours straight! Then I'll be famous, and liked, and I can finally quit this loathsome job!"

"That's nice sir, but how long is it going to take you?"

"136 hours, of course! I did start about five hours ago, though, so that gives me a good start. Now go away, so I can concentrate!"

"Okay sir," and Olaf left the office building. He cast one more glance at the kennel to the end, then shrugged. They were probably okay…

* * *

"I swear, I've never seen anything like it!"

The children were in school, and the adults of Sherman's Creek were going about their business. Apparently, several people viewed it their business to discuss the strange happenings of the previous day.

"So, there I was, showing Catherine this globe I've had for ages in my shop, and the poor dear, she accidentally bumped into it. It fell over, but this brown and white one, with a pink bow, out of nowhere, came and dived underneath it! The dog saved it!"

"Yeah," Mrs. Blackmon, "I was walking and dropped my apples, and this other dog came and helped me pick them up."

"I don't care what they did," one man insisted, "I still don't want them around here. I don't trust them, something inside me just," he shook his head and sighed, "I just feel all squirmy and uneasy inside."

"And rightly so!" everyone turned suddenly as Pastor Jordan drew near the group, "One of those creatures tried to approach me yesterday. They played nice, because they want us to lower our guard. But I stood my ground, I drove the tempters away." Looking around disapprovingly at the assembled people, he stated, "It seems many of us gave in to their deceit…"

At this, many looked down at their feet in embarrassment, but a few held their head a bit higher, for they had also reacted strongly against the dogs' offers of kindness. Jordan glanced around, taking in each person's reaction and filing it away for future use. His gaze fell on Mrs. Blackmon, who met his eyes but quickly looked away.

"Gerda," he began, "I heard specifically that you had an encounter with one of them."

She nodded, "That's right." Her voice was soft and meek.

"And, if I recall, your daughter was the first to be approached by one of these…" he struggled for the right word, "beasts?"

"Yes," her eyes sank to the ground, and her cheeks flushed.

"I am not impressed by your family's piety, Gerda." Jordan was cutting in his remarks, "We all care about you, and we desire your salvation. I desire your salvation. But if you are not willing to make an effort, then God will not waste his energy-"

"That's enough," came from a quiet, but sharp voice from the outside of the group. Pastor Paul had been walking by, and had overheard Jordan's increasingly loud tirade.

"Paul, I…" Jordan had been put off by the intervention, "I was just talking to Mrs. Blackmon about-"

"I heard, Jordan. I do believe half the village heard." Paul made his way to the center of the crowd, and gently took Mrs. Blackmon's arm. "Now, I do not believe I am aware of all the details. Please tell me what happened,"

Mrs. Blackmon sniffed; she had been tearing up. Now she looked up at Paul's quiet, patient eyes, and stuttered, "I…I was," she hiccupped, "I was taking some apples home, I picked them from the orchard," she paused, "Then I dropped them, and then one of the dogs was helping me…and that's it!" she asserted on this last bit.

Paul didn't speak at first, only nodded softly. Then, "Well, did you hurt anyone?"

"No! I swear, I did nothing!" Mrs. Blackmon shook her head insistently.

"Then what seems to be the problem?" he turned to Jordan now.

"She…" now it was the younger pastor's turn to stammer, "She violated one of our most important laws. She has sinned!"

"Forgive me, but did you ever actually ask for the dog to come to you, Mrs. Blackmon?" A gentle shake of her head. "Then I ask you again, Jordan, what exactly she did to receive such a cruel reprimand, given that she also had no further contact with the dog, I assume?"

Jordan silently fumed; his fists were clenched. But he did not dare strike out at Paul, or attempt to vocalize any serious opposition. After all, he did not wish to say out loud the real reason he was so incensed at Mrs. Blackmon's supposed crime.

"Jordan, God is nothing if He is not merciful. I pray that you will please attempt to follow his example, and exercise patience." He turned now to Mrs. Blackmon. "Jordan is right in that you could have done more to act against it, but it is nothing worth lecturing you about. Pray to the Lord for strength, and go in peace, Gerda."

Mrs. Blackmon nodded silently, and made to leave. However, she was interrupted by a flood of the village children, just released from school and now flocking to the playing fields. Lily and Bernie darted through the crowd of adults, each trying to chase the other down. The parents began trying to find their kids, and the crowd dissolved slowly. However, Paul felt his hand taken, and he stopped.

Sarah Blackmon stood with his hand in hers, and she had a serious, yet nervous look on her face.

"Good afternoon, Sarah," Paul smiled at her, "can I help you with something?" Pastor Jordan, realizing that his partner had been pulled aside, edged up behind Paul to listen to the proceedings.

"Father…" Sarah's words came quietly, and she looked around to make sure no other bystanders were listening to their private conversation, "Father, I wanted to ask you about the…"she caught herself, took a deep breath, and finished, "about the puppy."

Paul blinked, and wondered to himself how something so small could cause so much trouble. "What about it, my child?"

"Yesterday, me and my friends were playing with it," she paused to see if she would receive any reprisals, but aside from Jordan snorting a bit, there was no response, "and while we were playing, I felt something really happy inside me…and I felt it the first time I met the puppy too-"

"Joy?" Jordan scoffed, and barged in beside Paul, "It was the devil himself, child! Of course you would feel pleasure by your transgression, that is where the temptation comes from." He knelt down and gripped her shoulders, "Do you hear me?"

"Yes, but…" she quietly held out her hand, "I made this. My friend said her dad had seen one, and I…I already made one…"

In her hand was a pink ribbon, tied into a circle and finished with a bow, with the name "Coco" scrawled in a child's handwriting with ink. Jordan stared at it with disgust, his eyes flickering with bitterness. He grabbed the makeshift collar from her hand and held her shoulders again. His voice sounded angry, and grew more desperate with each word.

"You have to learn to master these impulses! These are beings of darkness that you are trying to draw close to! Your soul is in peril, Sarah! You must find the strength to overcome the evil which has permeated our village! Do you understand me?!"

Sarah nodded, her eyes wide with fright. Jordan was pleased that at least one person was taking him seriously.

"Then do exactly what I say, alright?"

Another nod.

"Good. Now, the next time you see the puppy, or any other animal for that matter, what will you do?"

Sarah thought quietly, then whispered meekly, "Ignore it?"

"Don't just ignore it! Yell, scream, drive it away! You must fight Satan, or he will come upon you!"

Jordan's hands were now slightly trembling as he released Sarah, and stood back up. He still clutched the pink ribbon collar in his hands. Paul was staring at him with a tired look in his eyes, then turned to the girl. "Sarah, I'd like you to come to my house later tonight. I believe I can set you straight on this situation. Can you do that for me?"

* * *

"Hey, I found some bread over here!"

It had been a slow day for good deeds; the children had been in school, and it seemed the adults had taken to traveling in packs, wary against the canines. Now, the Pound Puppies were foraging for food in the trashcans around the village. Niblet brought his find proudly to the sharing pile, and placed the crust of bread down to be reviewed by everyone.

"A crust of bread?!" Squirt exclaimed, "Niblet, that wouldn't even fill ME up!"

"Well, let's see you do better!" Niblet retorted, offended at his find being insulted. "At least I'm trying!"

"Guys, cut it out!" Lucky stepped in, cross at both of them, "I know it's tough, but we have to make do with what we can get."

Suddenly, a door opened down the road a bit, and they were all startled into silence; letting a human hear them talk was the last thing they needed on their reputation in this place! To their surprise, they saw Pastor Jordan, busy taking out his trash. They watched eagerly as he tossed a few crumpled up papers, an empty ink bottle, and – joy! – an entire loaf of bread, which he had clumsily dropped on the ground, and he now considered unfit for consumption. But just as he lifted it above the can, he caught sight of the six dogs, staring hungrily at the loaf. And he saw the little scrap of crust, which they had just been arguing over.

A stony expression took over his face, and he tucked the loaf back under his arm. Perhaps it would not be so bad to eat after all…

He gave the slightest of smirks as he closed the door on the dogs.

"Can you believe that guy?!" Cookie muttered.

"Yeah, he's mean!" Niblet confirmed.

"He's just going to be a little harder to convince," Lucky reassured them, "He's just super attached to the…thing…like Strudel said, I think…" he trailed off, then picked up: "Anyways, he's not important right now, we'll convince him when-"

"Look!" Coco exclaimed.

Everyone turned and saw Sarah, walking quietly down the road, her head bowed solemnly. She stopped in front of a house which was a ways away from the others, and knocked.

"Sarah!" Coco cheered, and she raced to see her person, barking and yelping excitedly.

"Coco?" Sarah looked around with surprise to see the puppy running at her. "Coco!" All of Jordan's threats vanished as, once again, Sarah was overcome with joy to see her puppy. She held out her arms, and Coco jumped right in. "Oh, it's so great to see you, and – are these your friends?"

She directed her eyes to the five adult dogs, who had followed Coco. "Oh, they look precious!" She eagerly held out her hand to pet them, and Niblet was the first to oblige, being rewarded with a satisfying scratch behind the ear. "Boy, you sure are scruffy! I wonder you all came from, any-"

The door behind her opened, and as the warm light spilled out, Sarah gasped and froze in fear. She had completely forgotten she was standing outside a pastor's house! She slowly turned and looked up at Pastor Paul's face. He stared back at her, utterly shocked. She trembled to think about what he would say – what he would do – whom he would tell!

After a moment's pause, though, she was surprised to see his mouth gently form a smile and say, "Come in, my child, and bring your friends."

The Pound Puppies, similarly, were surprised to hear this. As they hesitated at the doorway, Paul further prompted them, "Come in! I won't bite, I promise."

The five dogs finally followed Sarah and Coco across the threshold. After they were all inside, Paul closed the door, strode across the room, and sat in a small, ratty-looking armchair. "Please, sit down," he looked at Sarah and indicated a matching armchair about ten feet away, "and your friends may lie down wherever they wish."

After everyone had obliged, Paul closed his eyes, organizing his thoughts, then began. "I do not suppose you know why I wanted to see you?"

Sarah furrowed her brows in thought. "I thought it was about the puppy…"

"Oh, it is, my child, it is!" Paul leaned forward, "But I heavily doubt you know exactly what I'm going to say about the puppy?"

Sarah believed his doubt was well-placed, and shook her head.

"I should perhaps start at the beginning." Paul stood up again, and walked over to a large, yet plain wooden bookshelf, "You know I enjoy reading?"

"Yes?"

"Well, it is one of the peculiar traits of reading that it often brings up questions about what we think we know. For example, it makes us ask who wins in an act of revenge," Paul pulled off a book and flashed the cover to Sarah; it said _Moby Dick_. "Other books make us wonder about how we treat each other," he held up a copy of _Of Mice and Men_. "And even other books…" he paused to take a deep breath, "make us believe that animals have feelings too." At this, he pulled out a copy of _White Fang_. He replaced the first two on the shelf, but he held the third in his hand. His words still resonated in the air.

"Father, I don't understand," Sarah was struggling to contemplate what was going on, "Are you upset with me?"

"Upset? No, no!" Paul kneeled down and looked her in the eye. "I want to help you, Sarah."

"You mean," Sarah's face broke into cheer as realization washed over her, "I can keep Coco?!"

"Coco?" Now Paul was confused, "Who's-oh, the puppy! Yes, yes, I see." He chuckled heartily, "Well, it wouldn't be EXACTLY like that. You see…" he went quiet again.

"Sarah, you have to understand my situation. I haven't believed in that silly law for years, but I haven't been able to say anything against it. You could call it…" he searched desperately for the right word, "I guess you could call it _fear._ If I were to recant on something like that, that's been around so long, I could draw the ire of the more faithful in our community." He paused. "I was afraid they would have me labeled as a heathen and…and…" he nodded sadly. Everyone understood what he meant.

"And, of course, I haven't seen anything to convince me otherwise. Until a few days ago, I watched as the community reacted to you and the – uh, Coco. They reacted against you, of course, but not as violently as I would have thought. So, in a way, you gave me the courage I needed, so thank you Sarah." He smiled warmly, and kissed her on top of her head.

"Father, I…" Sarah was at a loss for words.

"And, I suppose I should thank your friends too!" Paul gestured to the dogs lying around his small house. "For showing up here in the first place, setting everything in motion, not to mention helping out around the community." The Pound Puppies all looked at one another, growing more excited as the pastor kept talking.

"Now, Sarah, here's what I'm going to do," Paul explained, and he stood up, "For tonight, and maybe the next few nights, I want to keep Coco with me, so I can keep her safe. In the meantime, I'm going to talk to Jordan, see if I can't convince him to see our way, and your mother as well. I think she will be okay, though, with you keeping Coco."

"So I do get to keep her!" Sarah was positively enraptured now. "I get to have my own puppy!"

"Once everything is in order…yes."

"Oh, thank you Father!" Sarah threw her arms around his waist, surprising the old man. "Thank you thank you THANK YOU!"

"Yes, yes," Paul chuckled, "Now, you get home and to bed, and don't forget to stop by tomorrow to see Coco! And here," he held out _White Fang,_ which Sarah took gratefully, "I think you'll find this a good read. I'll take care of everything in the meantime."

"Love you Coco!" Sarah gave the puppy a little kiss on the top of her head, then left for the door. Paul opened it for her, and she started out. But she paused, as if remembering something, and turned back. "Father, I want to know…why did you finally change your mind about animals?"

"Well, Sarah," a smirk, "I guess I just started thinking about how they were God's creations too, and went from there."

After a final "Good night!" from each, Sarah went on her way, and Paul remained by the door, holding it open. He now turned to the six dogs in his house. "Now, do you five have a place to stay tonight? Because if not, I have space and food here."

None of them moved.

"Very well!" the door closed. "I'm making spaghetti, then, a BIG potful!"


	6. The Fires of Hell

_"If your hand or foot causes you to sin, cut it off and cast it from you. It is better for you to enter into life lame or maimed, rather than having two hands or two feet, to be cast into the everlasting fire. And if your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out and cast it from you. It is better for you to enter into life with one eye, rather than having two eyes, to be cast into hell fire."_

_Matthew 18:8-9_

* * *

The hot steaming plates of pasta, topped with a rich tomato sauce, were a welcome change from the scraps the Pound Puppies had been forced to scrounge for the past couple of days. Paul served each of the six dogs, then himself.

"It's an old family recipe," the pastor mildly boasted to his guests, "My great-grandmother invented the finest sauce this village has ever seen!" Paul chuckled to himself, unaware that the dogs could actually understand him.

There was a sudden scuffling outside, followed by the clang of a trashcan being knocked over. Everyone's heads jerked up at the commotion. Paul quickly rose and made his way to open the door.

"Hello?" he called outside.

No one answered. Looking around at the wall by the door, Paul saw his trashcans knocked over. Grumbling to himself, he re-righted them, and went back inside to finish eating.

After dinner was completed, and the dishes were washed and stored away, Paul decided to retire for the night. He disappeared into his room, and the Pound Puppies waited for him to fall asleep. As soon as gentle snoring drifted out from the bedroom, they whispered to each other.

"Well Lucky," Strudel smiled, "I think we did it!"

"I'm going to be with Sarah!" Coco whispered gleefully.

"See, I told you kid," Lucky was proud that he had kept his promise, "I guess that means we'll be heading off tomorrow."

"Aw," Coco suddenly seemed sad, "I'll miss you guys."

"And we'll miss you, but remember: Once a Pound Puppy, always a Pound Puppy!" Coco beamed happily at the words. Lucky looked around at the team, all of them content with a hard mission well done. "Now, we should get to sleep. We have a long ways to get home tomorrow!"

So everyone found a place to doze for the night, their thoughts on their success. But when slumber actually came, Lucky was still haunted by the dreams of the woman named Constance, and the snow, and the boy and the cat…

* * *

Jordan stared out the window at the stars, starting to appear in the night sky. He sighed, then looked back down at the table. He poured himself another glass of whiskey, and downed the drink in one gulp. His head was starting to throb, so he poured yet another glass, but this time only drank it halfway before stopping.

"Uhhh…" he groaned, and he rubbed his temples with his free hand.

It had been a long day.

Jordan lumbered over to a large satin chair which faced his fireplace, and sank into it. He took another sip from his drink. His mind swam with thoughts, most of them upset.

"Bloody Paul…" he growled, and his grip tightened on the glass. He had been humiliated earlier at being reprimanded, like a child! And for what? Enforcing one of the oldest rules of Sherman's Creek!

"God," he muttered, not as an exclamation but as the beginning of a prayer, "you know I'm a righteous man. I've proved myself time and time again in your service," he suddenly squeezed his eyes shut, and his head rocked as he suddenly grew dizzy. Jordan put his free hand up to his forehead to stabilize himself. "I've shown myself to be true, virtuous, and just. Then why," his voice trembled, "why do you keep testing me?!"

His head bobbed forward a bit, tired from drink. It just didn't seem fair! Jordan thought, as he played the shameful scene over and over. He was the one who was making the firm stand against the encroaching dogs, and yet no one listened to him! No one listened about the puppy…

They all liked Paul better, of that he had been certain for ages. Was he not just as deserving of respect, if not more so, than that old man?! After all, Jordan thought nastily to himself, it didn't seem that Paul bothered to address the problem of the puppy at all…

Jordan scowled as he refocused on the Blackmons, how neither the mother nor the daughter seemed to pay him the slightest heed. It was the girl anyways, who started this whole business with the puppy…

The puppy…

Jordan's mind kept slipping back to the puppy, no matter how hard he tried to push the thought away. Every time he tried, it just flew back, his drunken mind getting weaker and weaker with each attempt, and his tears grew hot in his eyes. Even now, staring into the fire, the flames took the outline of the small pudgy body, the floppy ears, the excited tail, and big sweet eyes. The young puppy in the fire sat on her haunches, front paws held before her, staring cheerfully back at Jordan, panting happily, and his heart began to melt…

"NO!" he screamed, and he hurled his glass into the fireplace. Jordan sank to his knees, sobbing now. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out the pink ribbon collar Sarah had fashioned. The sight of it sent the pastor into deeper sobbing, as he reached into his other pocket, and pulled out a small, frayed circle of rope, and his mind began to swim...

* * *

_"But Daddy!" the boy cried, "I just found it out outside in the snow, it's not-"_

_"Don't you care about your soul, boy?!" the father yelled. His face contorted with rage. "How dare you bring that into our household?"_

_"Daddy, I promise it's not bad!" the boy held a small tabby cat in his arms, hugging it close to him. A simple rope collar circled the animal's neck. Fearful tears streamed from the boy's eyes. "It's nice!"_

_"Are you damned?!" a hand swung out and slapped the boy across his face. The cat mewed fearfully at the violence, and burrowed deeper into the boy's arms. _

_The father leaned down close to the boy, who now squeezed his eyes shut, his cheek stinging painfully. "I just care about you, and I want your soul to be saved! Don't you want that?"_

_The boy nodded tearfully, and the kitten mewed again. _

_"Come here," the father brought his son into a close embrace, "I just care about you, that's all." They stayed like that for a while, the kitten purring between them. "Now, we have to do what we must." He pulled away from his son, and took him reassuringly by the shoulders. "Are you ready to redeem yourself before God, Jordan?"_

_Jordan nodded meekly, but still clutched his kitten. His father took him by the arm, and marched him outside into the winter night. They shuffled through the snow, walking through the village streets, as a full moon cast an eerie glow over everything. Jordan thought they were going to the forest, but he saw his father's gaze rest on the object ahead, and he froze._

_"No, Daddy."_

_"Jordan!" his father bellowed, without concern for others sleeping around them, "You can turn your back on that beast, or you can turn your back on God, and no force in hell can make me allow you to turn your back on God!" _

_His father grabbed his arm and pulled him ahead to the village's water well._

_Next thing Jordan knew, he was standing over the round void which plummeted down through the earth. He felt the kitten tense in his arm, sensing the icy water which lay twenty feet down. _

_"Do it, Jordan!" his father hissed. _

_Jordan looked down at the cat in his arms, his heart melting with love for the kitten, and at the same time torn by his father's commands, and his fear of the everlasting fire…_

_He slowly untied the rope collar from the kitten's neck._

_He looked into the emerald eyes._

_And watched them fall into the frozen darkness below._

* * *

Jordan was in a cold sweat as he returned to the present day. He was on his knees clutching the two collars in his hand. His pain tore at him inside, a troubled memory he had not had to confront for years. Now it seemed it was repeating itself.

"Why must you test me so?!" he screamed, staring at the fire, where the puppy's outline still stood, panting and smiling sweetly. For a second he considered sparing Sarah the pain he had suffered. But then he asked, why should she get to have her precious little beast?! Jordan condemned himself for this moment of weakness, but when he looked up, hooded figures swam before him.

"No!" he yelled, his face turning pale, "it was a mistake!"

_HEATHEN, _the figures echoed in his head.

"I did not mean it!" Jordan pleaded, "I would not fall for the charm of a brute animal!"

_UNFAITHFUL, _the hooded figures menaced.

"I am just a man! I am susceptible to the temptations of Lucifer! Mercy, please!" Jordan squeezed his eyes shut in desperation, and he felt fire surround him, licking his body, and the heat threatening to consume him. "No, please God!"

He threw open his eyes, and he was again kneeling on the floor, his chest heaving in terror at the horrific vision. Realizing it signified that he was walking on the edge of an abyss, Jordan cried out:

"Lord, I have been your faithful servant for years, and I will carry out your will," He threw his fist into the air. "I will destroy the puppy, and save the soul of every person in Sherman's Creek!" As he spoke out this resolution, he watched the puppy in the fire flicker, then burn from the very flames which made it up.

Suddenly, he heard pounding on his door. Jordan whipped around at the sudden noise. He quickly stashed the two collars away in his pocket, then strode over and opened the door. His most trusted member of the Guard, Harry Boe, was panting from fatigue.

"Well?" Jordan demanded, "What was Paul saying to Sarah?"

"He…he…" Harry drew in a breath, "He told Sarah…that he would…help her…keep the puppy."

"What?" Jordan could not believe his ears.

"He also…is gonna…help the dogs…in his…they're….in his house…right now…"

Jordan's jaw dropped as he heard Harry deliver this horrifying news. "Are you sure?"

A confirming nod. Jordan inhaled heavily to steady his dizzying head again, and drew himself to his full height.

"Harry, go and inform the others at once. Bring them to arms. I want everyone here, at my house, by dawn." Harry nodded, and puffed as he sprinted away. Jordan turned away, now recognizing the scope of the problem facing him. No wonder Paul had been lax, he had surrendered to temptation! He had given in! Jordan realized that he, and he alone, was the last hope for Sherman Creek's salvation. Still tottering slightly from the drink, he proceeded back to stand before the fireplace, and looked up to the ceiling.

"O Lord, I will prove to you once again that I am your faithful servant! I will stand firm against the tempters' lies, even though those around me fall!" He now grasped the two collars in his hand, and glared at them. "I will defeat the agents of hell the Evil One sent upon us…Tomorrow, I send the beasts back to the fiery pit they crawled out of!"

And with this, he hurled the two collars into the fire.

The flames angrily leapt upon the cloth and rope, and set to work devouring them into unrecognizable ashes. Jordan backed away, his eyes starting to glaze over as the alcohol finally caught up to him. He collapsed into the chair, and immediately passed out from exhaustion. The orange light of inferno blazed out from the fireplace, flooded the room, and spilled out through the windows into the village beyond.


End file.
